


Power Play

by Measured_Words



Category: Diablotin
Genre: Anal Play, Biting, Collars, Control Issues, Demon Sex, Dildos, Dom/sub, F/M, Genderswap, Gloves, M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could remember perfectly the feel of sharp teeth pressing against his skin in that very spot – soft warm lips pressing against his neck, his ears, enflamed passion held in firmly check by his own will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Play

Sanadhìl looked himself over once more as he adjusted his waistcoat, cursing Averyrone fashions, but glad that the weather was at least cooler this time of year. Normally, he might have preferred to dress more casually for a visit to the Society, but the clothes would help cement him as himself – As Sanadhìl, as M. Órecalo. They were a barrier against being too closely associated with Sendhel. The coat’s emerald hue enhanced a similar shade in his eyes, focusing their sharpness. Sendhel had rarely worn greens and certainly never one so bright, sticking instead to rich blues, along with softer purples and reds.

Lips pursed, he smoothed down his cravat, a patterned silk in a matching shade and paused to lift his hair back from his neck, leaning his head to the side to see beneath the constricting collar. Nothing. Still, checking for the tenth time since he’d returned home, nothing.

He could remember perfectly the feel of sharp teeth pressing against his skin in that very spot – soft warm lips pressing against his neck, his ears, enflamed passion held in firmly check by his own will.

‘No marks,’ he’d commanded, and Earric had left none, though he could sense the violence behind the restraint and the yearning promises it held. He… she’d let herself be guided by his will, even so far as to submit to wearing the leather collar he’d found, tight enough around her throat that she couldn’t let its presence, its significance, slip from her mind.

She’d curled her fingers into claws when she’d come the first time, from the oil slicked glass phallus he fucked her ass with. It wasn’t hard to get the succubus off – indulgence in fleshy pleasure was what they thrived on, what they were made for. Sanadhìl had taken his time with her regardless, building up the intimacy by stages, savouring the negotiation of power between her submission and his control, and the complication of Earric’s desire for him and his own acquiescence to that desire. If he’d scored some victory there, he was still not sure that he hadn’t lost as well.

They’d started with the glass dildo, Earric on the large bed, on her hands and knees. Then, the glove. He’d allowed her to explore his own body more fully as she’d settled on his lap, his hand inside her, rough textured leather stroking the walls of her cunt, pressing against her clit. She’d fondled his cock, squeezing lightly, pressing herself against him skin to skin. It was then that she’d raked his throat with sharp teeth and hot kisses. She’d bit his ear when he let her come, but despite the pleasant stinging, she’d left no mark.

Despite her willing submission, Earric’s sexual nature was harder to resist when he laid her back against the pillow and spread her legs, breathing in the sweat tinged scent of her musk, tongue sliding against the slickness of her pussy. Strong hips bucked beneath his hands, pushing up against his face, echoing physically the refrains that streamed through his mind and that he could feel through their connection. He knew, he was sure, that it was more than the telepathy that made it so easy to find an attunement with Earric, to understand the language of her body, begging him to give her what she longed for, his cock inside her, and his own release.

Fucking her was a true exercise in control, and she helped him explore his own limits. She could have overwhelmed him, easily he was sure, but she refrained. As a reward, he fucked her longer, varying his rhythm, distracting them both by caressing her breasts, pinching her nipples, kissing her, burying his face and hands in her tangle of dark curls – prolonging things in the Cozovode way, keeping himself at the brink of his release as long as possible even when she came again and again, then breathing, controlling, edging himself away. The both reveled in the pleasure, in the gratification of his self-control, until he felt he’d earned the reward of his release, not inside her as she pleaded, but across her stomach, the built up pressure splashing his hot jizz against her skin hard enough to spatter the underside of her tits.

Like his dress today, Sanadhìl realized, the sex had been a reclaiming moment. His body, his desire, his mind, his control, even his antagonist. It was a calming assertion, and a personalizing moment – he let go of his anxiety. Whatever else was going on, whatever else may have gone before, it had been his choice, and his night, and no one else’s concern. Shrugging into his jacket, his cleared his mind of the reminiscences, turning his thoughts to other issues as he gathered his notes, his hat and cane, and set upon his way to the ordained meeting.

**Author's Note:**

> [What is Diablotin, you ask?](http://wiki.rocksfall.org/rocksfallwiki/Diablotin_2)
> 
>  
> 
> (Okay you probably don't, but just in case ;)


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